


An Untarnished Dream

by fuzipenguin



Series: The Oldest Profession [6]
Category: Transformers - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Prostitution, Body Paint, Gen, Hope, Other, hooker!Hound
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-12
Updated: 2017-10-12
Packaged: 2019-01-16 10:33:00
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 610
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12340932
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fuzipenguin/pseuds/fuzipenguin
Summary: Hound doesn't much indulge in them, but he *does* still have hopes and dreams





	An Untarnished Dream

**Author's Note:**

> Anonymous asked: Sex worker Hound with 21? “Every inch of you is breathtaking”

           “Hold still,” Bracket commanded.

           Again.

           “It tickles,” Hound protested.

           Again.

           “Regardless… hold still,” Bracket repeated for the fifth…? sixth…? time. “This is delicate work.”

           “Yes, I know,” Hound said, biting his lower lip as he resolutely stared up at the ceiling. “Thank you again.”

           Bracket snorted, the heated ex-vent wafting over Hound’s exposed array. Fortunately, he had just resolutely locked down all his joints or otherwise he would have done more than just twitch.

           “Are you sure you don’t want a percentage of my final take?” Hound asked.

            It didn’t seem right for Bracket to spend his off hours painting up Hound for his next job. He was incredibly thankful Bracket had offered however; repaints were one thing, but specialized requests could get quite expensive. And while Market was a repeat client and brought in a relatively steady income, his ask for an array repaint would have set Hound back significantly if he had gone to the detailer.

              “No. This is good practice,” Bracket replied. “The more specialized skills you have, the more money you bring in. The more money you’ve saved means you can get out quicker and you can do something else. Anything else.”

              The bitterness in Bracket’s voice made Hound smile sadly at the dungy plating overhead.

              “I don’t think I’ll ever get out.”

              How could he? What skills did he have? Bracket himself was always in demand due to his dominance experience. Hound had roleplayed multiple different positions, but few clients asked for him repeatedly. He wasn’t even all that pretty, not like Shimmer or Brice. The two of them were posed to be recruited by some high end call services, according to rumors.

              A sharp pinch on the inside of Hound’s knee made him jerk upright. He gazed at Bracket only to see him glaring up at him with a frown on his face.

           “Don’t talk like that. I don’t want to waste my time on mechs who have no ambition. Do you really want to do this your whole function? Isn’t there something else you’d rather do?” Bracket demanded, turning his glare to Hound’s valve and the drying paint around it.

           Hound blinked, focus turning inwards to the dream he kept carefully hoarded away from his day to day experiences. It was still pure and clear, not tarnished by every grope of his aft or smear of transfluid across his cheek.

           “I want to explore,” he said softly, barely registering the sensation of Bracket’s paintbrush resuming its strokes. “I want to see the Manganese mountains, watch the petrorabbits play and the jethawks fly around the peaks. There’s so much debate about whether they mate for life and I would love to find a pair and watch their interactions including raising their offspring. I would chronicle every aspect of their life until death and then find another pair and another, so I could prove the life mate theory true or not. And then maybe observe a turbowolf pack; there’s still so much to be learned from their social interactions with one another…”

           He realized Bracket had stopped again and was sitting back on the heels of his pedes. “Oh… am I done?” Hound questioned, trying to peer over his bumper to see his array.

           “… yeah… yeah, you’re done,” Bracket said softly. Hound stared at him, surprised to see such a melancholy expression on the other mech’s face.

           “How do I look?” Hound asked hesitantly. What had he done to make Bracket so sad?

           Some of the gloom faded from Bracket’s face and he briskly began gathering up his paints. “Good. Every inch of you looks good. And don’t let anyone ever tell you different.”

 

~ End


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